SightSoundSmellTouchTaste
by lillyankh
Summary: A series of snapshots into the lives of Matt and Mello, themed around the senses. Rated for language and adult themes. MattxMello, Matt-centric.
1. Sight

Hey everyone. Here I am again, starting another story without finishing any others. But to be fair, my computer broke, so I can't get to the other chapters I wrote. And I actually have worked out the end for this, so do not fear! You will see the entire fic!

I had originally intended this to be one chapter with five parts, but I think it works better with individual chapters for each sense. And I don't own DN, surprise surprise.

**EDIT:** It has recently been brought to my attention that it is not entirely clear how much time passes between each chapter. I wish to emphasise that this is **not shota** and that Matt and Mello **do not** engage in any sexual activities before they are of legal age.

This is a vague timeline of the chapters: Sight - 1 year - Sound - 2.5 years - Smell - 2 years - Touch - 3 months - Taste

Of course, this timeline may have some discrepancies with canon, but I was trying to keep it in line with the tiny information we are given about the pre-Near arc lives of this pair. **END EDIT**

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**Sight**

The first time Matt sees Mello, the blond is hanging upside-down, his legs tightly wrapped around a tree branch. Matt is sat at the base of a tree in the garden, intently mashing buttons on his Game Boy, when an angelic face swings into view.

Understandably, Matt jumps about five feet in the air. The apparition laughs merrily at this.

"Your face! You didn't even see me coming!"

A hot blush spreads across Matt's cheeks, and not only from embarrassment. At the age of twelve, his hormones are running riot, and this marble-skinned Adonis hanging tantalisingly in front of him is more than enough to send his mind into a dizzying haze of confusion. Feeling blue eyes boring into his mind, Matt desperately tries to come up with something, anything, to say in response.

"W…why are you upside-down?" Oh yeah. Real witty. How could the boy possibly resist him?

"I like the world better when it's upside-down. Chaos seems more appealing, don't you think?" Matt nods dumbly, unable to do much else than stare. "It's about perspective. You need to turn everything on its head to see how fucked up it all really is. Like this place."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, just look at it. We're all packed up in our little boxes, given our special names, told we're supposed to achieve all these great things, but what really happens? We turn into these desperate neurotic little freaks, scrabbling like pathetic dogs for attention. This place doesn't help child prodigies reach their potential; it breaks us."

"Who are you?"

"You mean, what name did they give me? Mello. I hate it already."

Matt has seen this name, watched as it rapidly ascended the ranks on the scoreboard. He gazes in awe at this boy, this beautiful oddity.

"So you don't care? You don't want to be the best, or beat all the others?"

Mello just swings from his perch, his crazed grin sending sparks up Matt's spine. "Nope."

Matt sits for a while, thinking. Eventually, he puts his console on the ground and clambers up the tree to join Mello.

"I think I like the world better when it's upside-down, too."

* * *

First part over. Thank you for reading :) Please review.


	2. Sound

Second part here. This is my favourite section.

Thanks for the reviews and alerts for Sight; they were greatly appreciated.

Just to clarify: This occurs about a year after Sight, and Matt and Mello now share a room (at Mello's request)

-x-

**Sound**

Matt loves the sound of a chocolate bar snapping, of steel-toed boots stomping decisively across a hard wooden floor, of soft leather squeaking as its wearer flops down angrily in a chair.

He loves the sound of Mello's voice, like a thousand symphonies crying out their injustices against the world. He dreams of that voice, wishes it would whisper secrets to him, tell him the three words he most longs to hear.

He loves the quiet sound of Mello's breathing as he sleeps, his smooth features peaceful. It is the only time he is calm, the only time he can truly be free from the horrors of their prison-without-walls.

He hates it when Mello shouts, because he knows what it means. He hates the way Mello spits that albino's name like poison, becoming the very thing he once held so much contempt for.

He hates the repulsed curses Mello barks whenever Matt tries to hold him, to comfort him and kiss away his pain.

The sound Matt hates the most is the muffled, midnight sobbing of his friend breaking into pieces too fragile for him to put back together.

-x-

Thank you for reading. Next part should be up in a couple of days, providing we have no more glitches.


	3. Smell

Here's the next section for you all. Thanks to all those people who put this story on their alerts or favourites; comments are also appreciated. You are very nice, and I'm glad I changed your opinion on Mello, Abigail, as I've always felt he was misunderstood.

This is obviously set a few years after Sound – we are never given specific dates for when Mello leaves, so I cannot give an exact time.

Warning: Adult themes from here on. I never go into detail, but don't read if you don't like the idea of two (legal in the UK) boys being in a relationship.

**Smell**

Mello is gone.

He is never coming back.

Of this, Matt is certain. He's known Mello for long enough to tell when something is final.

Matt mentally hits himself for not realising something was up. The night before, Mello had walked quietly into their room, instead of angrily storming about like he usually did. No, this had been a different kind of anger, the seething, decisive anger of a person with a plan. When Matt had gone over to see what was wrong, Mello took him entirely by surprise by kissing him, passionate and desperate. Emotions that had been repressed for years finally released in a wild rush, and the two had ended up in bed.

But when Matt wakes up, a sweet smile playing across his face, there is no chocolate-scented angel beside him.

There is only an envelope with his name written in shaky letters. Matt cannot bring himself to open it, not yet. Instead, he searches their room, frantically looking for any sign that he's made a mistake, that Mello has just gone out for a walk, that he hasn't…

But he has. Mello has left him. That was what last night was about. It was Mello's twisted way of saying sorry.

Matt crawls back inside the bed. It still smells of them, nicotine and chocolate, sweat and sex, deliciously mingled. It drives Matt crazy and he howls into the pillow. How could Mello do this to him?

There is something underneath the pillow. Pulling it out, Matt sees that it is one of his t-shirts, an old striped one he had lent Mello to sleep in. Somehow, this upsets him most of all. Mello had cleared out, taken every last thing with him, but he had left this, this piece of Matt, not deeming it important enough to take, just as he hadn't thought Matt important enough. He slips the shirt over his head, wanting their scents to mix again, somehow hoping that this will bring Mello back.

He still won't read the note.

He doesn't leave their room for three weeks.

-x-

Thank you for reading.


	4. Touch

Thanks once again for all the comments and favourites for this. Every time I see I have an email from fanfiction it makes me smile. I've always had a rather quirky writing style, and it's nice to know that people like what I do.

This chapter is a little more upbeat than my last one – not _happy_ as such, but not as angst-ridden. Well, the genre _is_ hurt/comfort; you get what it says on the tin.

Just a final note: When I write, I tend to listen to one song on repeat until I finish a section. The song for this section was _Rette Mich_ by Tokio Hotel, the lyrics of which are oddly appropriate for this chapter. If you listen to it, you might get some idea of the bizarre mindset I was in when I wrote this.

-x-

**Touch**

Mello called, and Matt came running.

He can't believe Mello needs him. He can't even believe this is real; he has dreamed it so many times that he isn't entirely sure he hasn't just finally gone crazy and is hallucinating this. He wants to run his hands all over Mello, feel every part of him to make sure he's really there.

The scars shock him, at first. He is cautious, holding back, not wanting to hurt Mello. But the pain in those eyes is of a different kind, and Matt suddenly realises exactly why Mello called him. He tugs off a glove and reaches up to gently touch the mottled skin. The blond inhales sharply but does not pull away, instead leaning in to Matt's hand, blue eyes flickering shut. Matt draws closer, tenderly placing a kiss on Mello's forehead. Strong arms wrap around him, hands gripping his shirt desperately.

Their lips meet with such longing, such consuming hunger, that it takes Matt a considerable amount of strength to hold himself back; he knows that Mello did not bring him here simply for an easy lay. No, he had called Matt because he saw something in that explosion, a reflection of himself and the wretched thing he had become, and he loathed it.

And, though he could not do so in the past, Matt will fix him. He will stay for as long as it takes, holding Mello, giving him strength and comfort and love until the man can drag himself back from the edge. If he could, Matt would give his very soul to Mello, tear it out of his chest just to make him smile again.

They lie together in the darkness, Mello's fingers lazily running through Matt's hair, Matt softly stroking Mello's face, his neck, his chest. After a while, Mello whispers quietly,

"Thank you."

"What for?"

"For rescuing me."

-x-

Hope you all liked it.

Just as a warning: the next and final chapter is quite sad.

I've had a couple of people say that they would like there to be more of this story; do you think I should add a "sixth sense" chapter? Perhaps with a happy ending for once.


	5. Taste

Well, here we are. This really will be the final chapter. Sorry if I got your hopes up – it just didn't seem to fit with the whole tone to add in the sixth sense.

On a slightly more random note, I am uploading this dressed as L. I went around in character all day to raise money for Comic Relief. It was most awesome.

Anyway, thanks for the nice things you all said about this story; it has been very encouraging. I hope you enjoy this last chapter, the final sense.

**Taste**

Blood.

His blood. Everywhere.

The cigarette filter is stained red as Matt takes one last wheezy drag. Mello's been on at him to quit lately. Says it'll kill him. Ha ha.

He coughs up smoke and blood, the rich copper tang filling his mouth. His whole body is numb, the fiery agony having blessedly long since burned out. But Matt doesn't care about the pain. All he can care about is Mello, if he had managed to get away, whether Matt's diversion was enough to save him.

How did that idiot talk him into this, anyway?

"_So that's your plan?" Matt asked incredulously._

"_You got a problem with it?"_

_Mello was glaring at him so ferociously that Matt decided it would probably be wise to approach this very gently. "Well, you've clearly got this all worked out, and I'll do whatever you want me to do, but seriously? We could both come out of this dead."_

_Doubt flickered across Mello's face before quickly being replaced with anger. "Don't be so fucking ridiculous. I know exactly what I'm doing. We're going to be fine, we're gonna take Kira down, and we're going to beat that son-of-a-bitch Near, too!"_

_Matt could tell that even Mello didn't believe those words. Maybe that was why he always ate chocolate – to take away the bitter taste of lies as they slid smoothly off his tongue. Matt sighed sadly. He knew there was no way he could win this argument. Part of him didn't even want to try, wanted so much for this to work._

"_You know I love you, but you're gonna be the death of me."_

Matt coughs again. His whole mouth tastes sour, like decay. He is fairly certain he hasn't got much time left. He hopes that Mello isn't in a similar situation somewhere. Mello can handle himself now. He could get through this on determination alone.

As his mind starts to cloud over, Matt smiles. Yes, he is sure. Mello will not fail.

He can taste something else now, something glorious, something worth dying for.

Victory.

-x-

It may be better to die never knowing than to live and know you failed. That's how I feel about Matt's death, anyway.

Here ends the senses, as we truly have no way of knowing what we can still –_seesmellheartouchtaste_– after death. Thanks for reading.

Lillyankh


End file.
